


Aerial Adventures

by ilyena_sylph



Category: JLU - Fandom
Genre: Gen, Wingfic, crack generator, crackfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-07-14
Updated: 2006-08-15
Packaged: 2017-10-18 00:44:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/183126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilyena_sylph/pseuds/ilyena_sylph
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is all the fault of the JLU random fic generator. It told me about Black Canary and growing wings, and the muse bit. First it bit for art, though, which is located <a href="http://i81.photobucket.com/albums/j239/yenagirl/my%20art/winged_canary.jpg">here</a>.</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is all the fault of the JLU random fic generator. It told me about Black Canary and growing wings, and the muse bit. First it bit for art, though, which is located [here](http://i81.photobucket.com/albums/j239/yenagirl/my%20art/winged_canary.jpg).

Of all the things Batman had considered when the call for assistance came in, this was _certainly_ not one of them. He should have been warned by the fact that it came on his private channel, but... how could he have prepared for this? He shook his head once, sharply, in a vain attempt to clear absolutely unimpeded vision, and stepped out of the shadows, to the side of the heroine leaning against the alley wall. "Canary," he called to her softly, attempting to get her attention without frightening her, still only half-believing the evidence of his eyes--but when she wheeled to face him and fell, unbalanced by the heavy weight of coal-black feathers that flared at the sound of his voice, he had no choice but to believe. //What has happened?//

Her lovely voice was raw (from sobs? from pain?) and full of wrath when she answered him from her undignified sprawl almost at his feet in the alley filth, "Hi, Batman..." Her bright blue eyes were dark and red-rimmed and mascara-trails streaked her cheeks--//this has made her cry...// The thought angered him, brought the sharp clarity of anger to his confused thoughts--and he noticed the ripped, half-destroyed jacket she clutched tightly in her hands.

"See why I asked you to bring something spacious?" Bitter, biting sarcasm in her voice as she freed one hand from the jacket to wave backwards at the tall curves of black (just admit it) wings. "I'm not going to fit in a normal car for a while..."

"True," he agreed. The wings were slightly larger than Hawkgirl's, it appeared, and they must be heavy. He reached down to her, and with a slight twist of her lips, she put her hands in his and let him help her stand--//They are heavy. Her weight has increased by almost a third...// She was still not difficult to lift. Even on her feet, with the top curves of the wings well over a foot above her head, the ends of the primaries dragged along the ground. Something about that triggered a memory of an old book. "You should probably try to keep them off the ground," he offered softly, deciding that the first order of business was simply to get her to safety. Questioning her on her new... appendages... could wait until they were less likely to be overheard.

"I can't... it hurts to try. Please tell me it's not far? I'm having a hard time keeping my balance with these things..." For Black Canary to be having trouble with her _balance_... the admission must have been a bitter pill.

"A block, no more." He considered. "Would it be faster for me to carry you?"

"Probably so, yes..." Yet another admission she hated, acceptance of a weakness she couldn't change--the black wings fluttered angrily //They react to her moods, they're wired into her nervous system... This is not good.// He nodded.

"All right." He stepped to the side, releasing her hands. Determining the best way to carry a woman with large, mainly uncontrolled wings took a moment, but then he dipped slightly to catch her legs with his left arm, careful of the gauntlet spikes, and ran his right arm below the bottom of the wings. "Hold on to my shoulders," he told her, intending to use the change in position and his greater height to keep the wings off the ground. She gasped softly when he moved her and her wings flared open again, nearly staggering him, but her arms wrapped behind his neck, lifting herself and her wings, and he changed his grip slightly. "Good?"

"It's... fine. I'm sorry about the--"

"I do not believe this is your fault," he deliberately interrupted, and started to move rapidly towards the large, steel gray van he'd found in Bruce Wayne's garage. "Where is your bike?"

"In a mall parking lot, locked up tight. Not a problem yet... but I couldn't exactly take _it_ to somewhere safe, either..." If her temper didn't improve within the next few hours, she was going to be... interesting to cope with. When she was angry, it was wisest to remain out of her way, he had observed--and she was still talking. "God, where counts as safe? I don't want the League to see me like this, I can't go _home_..."

Batman didn't like the level of stress in her voice, and spoke up before she could worry herself into tipping them off balance. "I had intended to take you home, but I see that is... unwise. I can offer you the shelter of the Cave, if you do not mind slightly cool conditions..."

She laughed against his throat. "As long as I don't get _seen_ with these ridiculous things, I don't care if you put me in Antarctica!"

"Superman might object," he replied to that dryly. "I think the Cave will be sufficient. And only two people, barring myself, might see you. Both of whom understand the value of discretion. Is that acceptable?"

The blonde heroine in his arms stiffened a moment, wings fluttering. "I... yes. I assume one of those is your Robin?" She hadn't been a Gotham resident and hero this long without occasionally spotting of the red-suited, cheerfully violent teen... but they left each other alone.

"Yes," Batman agreed as he reached the van and settled her on her feet, opening the doors with keys retrieved from the belt.

"Hm... this isn't exactly your usual ride, but it's perfect for the moment," Dinah observed, putting a foot on the running board to step up into the van, ducking--and he saw it coming a moment too late to stop her. She'd dipped her _head_ to get into the van--but had not reckoned for the wings. His call of "Canary!" and reach for her came in almost perfect stereo to her cry of pain as the (ulna or radius) bones of her wings slammed into the solid doorframe. He jumped forward to catch her, supporting her at the small of her back and one shoulder, listening to the choked noises of pain she was trying to suppress. "Are you--no."

Choked noises turned to a disdainful snort. "At least... you realized how stupid that was going to sound before you said it... Oh, fuck, that hurt... Damnit, Dinah, didn't you learn not to whack the wings when you hit the warehouse door?" She crouched carefully, and coaxed her wings through the door, carefully (perching) sitting on the edge of the seat. "Thank you," she added, looking out the door at him. "For catching me, I mean."

He twitched a shoulder slightly, dismissing it, and shut the door, walking around to take the driver's seat and put the van in gear. It was going to be at least an hour before they reached the Cave given the lack of a direct route between Bridgeton and his city, but they were on the way. "How much pain are you in?"

"Ah... six or seven. It feels like something in my back is broken, and all of the muscles feel like I pulled them. And the ache in the wings isn't helping... God, I have wings!" Her voice rose unsteadily at that last and he frowned. "Dinah. Stay with me. Do you want something for the pain?"

"Yes, please, if you have it..."

"Under the front passenger seat, there's a medical case. It pulls straight out towards you. Feel free." He heard the rustling of the case sliding out, and the noises of its opening, the search through it, and the hard swallow of someone taking pills dry after the snapping sound of a bottle opening.

"Thank you," she said again. "I... I'm sorry to impose, but you were the only person I could think of that wouldn't laugh at me."

"It's all right. It was a routine night... I don't mind the change." He was oddly pleased by the fact that she had trusted him with the knowledge of what had happened to her, but how... "What happened, Black Canary?"

"You might as well call me Dinah," she invited, her voice still sounding roughened, wrong to his ears. "I've been tracking a series of thefts in Jersey and Delaware--weird stuff, scepters and bones and pendants and such--and apparently, I wasn't as careful as I thought. I got a lead on where the goods might be--walked straight into a trap. It's a magic user, and he must be pretty powerful, because he chanted this incantation at me and these _things_ started ripping themselves out of my back!" Her voice spiraled up again, but she controlled it. "Sorry. I ... think I passed out while they were growing, because when I got my eyes open again he was gone, the place was empty...What the hell kind of magic user curses someone with _wings?!_ I mean, _wings_! Whatever happened to, oh, turning people into pigs or cursing them with boils?"

"The wings, at least, are... less detrimental than being turned into a pig, Dinah, you must admit... at least this way you could call for assistance, and still have use of limbs and voice..."

There was a sudden, almost mutinous silence from the back of the van, and he could almost feel the strength of her glare boring into the back of his cowl. It was long moments before she spoke. "I suppose you have a point..."

//But you're not happy about it. Yes, I know. I saw what they were doing to your balance--and you're going to be absolutely enraged when you realize what this will do to your fighting style if it can't be reversed. (Any spell can be broken). But at what cost?// He nodded slightly, acknowledging her words as he steered them through the traffic. "I think, if you lay on your chest, the back seat would be more comfortable... and you could rest the muscles you're straining to hold the wings."

"Batman... that's a wonderful idea. If I can get back there, I believe I will..." For that one sentence, she sounded better than she had all night. He listened to the sounds of rustling and her settling into the back, and he smiled slightly.

It took several minutes, but he eventually heard her breathing change to the soft sounds of sleep. //Good. You need it, // and he simply drove.

end part one

  
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	2. Chapter 2

"--ake up. Dinah, Wake up," //Huh what who-- _Batman?_ // flashed through Dinah's sleep-fogged mind. //Why's Batman//--her turn towards him was abruptly stopped by the strong hand that flattened between her shoulder-blades, high enough that his fingertips were of the nape of her neck, cold and rough--from the armor, she realized, even as she froze still. //Why doesn't he want me to move?//

"Dinah, be careful. The wings. You don't want to roll onto them."

//Wings? What? Batman, are you--wait, why am I sleeping on my che--// Her mind was racing, trying to _wake up_ , to catch up, and she realized the warm, heavy weight on her back wasn't a blanket, it was a feathery, living--//oh, god, it's real, it wasn't a nightmare it happened I have _wings_....//--weight on her back as they folded _in_ tighter--//reacting to me?// She took three careful, slow, deep breaths, in with calmness, push out the fear... and she nodded slowly. "All right. Thank you. I'm awake, now."

She felt his hand leave her back and twisted carefully, spotting the tail of the cape sliding out the door of the van. Thinking carefully, she got her feet--more accurately, her knees--under her and made her way out of the van, trying not to drag the ends on the carpet, which stung all the way up into her shoulders and back, and not to slam the tops of them against the roof of the van or the door. //Oh these _stupid_ things. Shayera, how do you _do_ this?!// She slipped out _carefully_ , trying not to let the weight of them overbalance her as she moved clear of the van. She stood up fully, looked around, and _stared_.

The Cave--her mind seemed to capitalize it without her intent--was simply... vast. The blazing halogen lights high on the stalactites in often-improbable locations seemed almost like the stars, struggling to illuminate the dark reaches of the Cave's abyssal black.... they made it _larger_ , not smaller. She felt herself flinch as feathers slid along the bare skin of her shoulders and chest, pressed against the leather of her top--she looked down, and the wings were wrapped tightly around her body. //Shit! These things give too much away!!//

The annoyed frown on her lips wasn't much better and she closed her eyes to take more slow, deep breaths and settle her emotions... and eventually, the wings folded back into place along her back. Now that she was calmer, she could feel the changes in the muscles of her back and ribs, the overlapping _set_ of them that seemed to move the wings. //He _changed_ me... changed my _body_ , didn't just add the wings he _changed_ me!// Her calm vanished again, she wanted to _scream_ , but, //Batman will never forgive me if I wreck his Cave having hysterics,// she told herself firmly. Her throat _still_ hurt, even though the painkillers had done a marvelous job--they weren't up to the task of handling the actinic flare of pain that surged down her nerves as the wings slammed open in her anger and fear. She bit back a whimper--and the urge to scream _again_ \--at the pain of new, weak muscles being asked to do far more than they could handle. Her lips went white--and that cold, armored hand settled on her shoulder again, gently. "Easy, Dinah...."

She let herself lean against that hand a moment, amazed at the gentle tone of his voice. "I.... thank you. This is _amazing_..." She turned her head to look back over her shoulder, past the wing, and caught--//was that? Yes, it was!//--the traces of a smile on the Bat's lips. //Nice to know I can make someb--Stop that, Dinah. How many people does he bring down here, after all? He's not smiling at the fact that you're hurting. ...He's not smiling at all anymore...// That made her strangely unhappy, and some trace of it must have flashed across her face, because his jaw tightened.

"You didn't rest long, Dinah, come sit back down." His hand slid away from her shoulder and he began to walk with that long stride--and in only a few steps he'd moved faster than she could currently keep up with. The wings flared again, nearly unbalancing her, as she realized how _helpless_ she was right now, hobbled by god-only-knew how many pounds of _feathers_ on her back that moved independently of her will and pulled at her back and _hurt_ and--

She shook her head hard, dashing the tear (just pain!) away from her cheek as she followed him as quickly as she could, boot-heels loud on the rough rock of the Cave--to her shame. She simply couldn't quiet her step, no matter how she tried. She also couldn't move swiftly and she felt her cheeks burn with shame as Batman stopped and turned back towards her, waiting. What she could see of his face was perfectly calm--but that didn't mean he wasn't judging her behind the expressionless façade, she was just sure. She caught up to him, cheeks still aflame despite her best attempts.

"Sorry. Thinking about what may need to be done."

//Did he just... apologize to me?// She was really rather stunned, floored by the difference in what she'd imagined and what he'd said. It was a well-known fact that the Bat was... not the most social, or civil, of persons. "I--it's all right, I wouldn't normally have a problem keeping pace with you, but--" she shut herself up and waved a hand in the direction of her shoulder and the wings, and saw him nod. When he started to walk towards what was obviously a medical area again--and she couldn't help but wonder about the wisdom of attempting to treat injuries inside of a bat-infested living cave (Cave)--he moved no faster than she could manage, and he managed that without looking in the slightest like he was attempting to hold back.... Definitely a level of control to be envied, and attempted. He indicated the padded, crisply made up gurney with a turn of one gauntleted hand "Sit down, or lie down, whichever you prefer."

She nodded and simply laid down on it, crossing her legs at the ankles. She lifted up a little, despite the weight, and turned her head towards him, bracing her chin in one hand to watch him standing there, just far enough back from the gurney that it wasn't difficult to look up at the lenses of the cowl. "You said something about "what may need to be done." What did you mean?"

"You don't want this to be permanent, obviously. It will likely require magic to rectify this, which means the assistance of a trustworthy and powerful spell-caster. However, Zatanna and Blood are both currently occupied." She tilted her head a little more at him, listening to the low, darkly pleasant pitch of his voice. Hearing him really talk, more than just tactical commands made her realize how striking that voice was--and she would almost swear she'd heard it somewhere else.... She shook off the thought and put her full attention back on him, nodding her understanding, and he continued.

"Given what I've seen of the wings so far, I believe it would be wise to attempt studying them, beginning with simple X-rays...."

She blinked, betraying that he'd startled her, then nodded. "I... that sounds wise. I want to know what he _did_ to me. I can feel changes, but... that's not good enough. I don't know what equipment you have, but I agree."

"Good. This will be a few moments, that's not one of the Cave's most frequently used pieces of equipment," there was the faintest trace of wry humor in his voice, she realized with a smile of her own, and the cape rustled as he turned away. She laid down, closing her eyes to listen to the sounds of him moving and the uncanny rustle of the bats fluttering above... and within moments, the feeling of safety wrapped around her again and she was asleep before he could even return.


	3. Chapter 3

Batman finished setting up the X-ray machine and acquired the plates, then turned to look at Dinah and a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. //She must be exhausted, to fall asleep so swiftly, here.// He knew how outsiders regarded his sanctum, so the fact that she felt safe enough to sleep... pleased him. She was Gotham's daughter, and that had been reason enough to allow her to stay when her power manifested. After observing her, her care and intelligence about her chosen targets, and the intensity of her training, her obvious desire to hone her body into as much a weapon as her devastating voice were more convincing reasons. She had none of the blindly arrogant reliance on her gift that so many of his meta-human teammates did--to her credit--and had proven her value as an ally and her trustworthiness during her time in the League. Her presence here was acceptable, given all of that.

There was some risk that she would learn his identity--Dinah Lance had traveled enough in Gotham's social circles to be familiar with Bruce Wayne. If he wasn't mistaken, he’d been the target of a crush of hers at one point. No matter, and the thought that she might learn his identity troubled him remarkably little. She was not given to revealing confidences. In the privacy of his own mind, he could admit his satisfaction that she had called on him when attacked, and not any of the others. It would be difficult, after all, to be less than pleased at such a beautiful woman's expressed faith in him.

She truly was extraordinarily beautiful, he admitted. The wavy, wheat-gold of her hair and deep blue eyes, the curves of her cheekbones and full, dark lips in her oval face were simply lovely, and laying there as she was (despite his knowledge of her strength and skills) she looked delicate--delicate, and disturbingly tempting, given her full, supple figure. The formfitting black corset left very little to the imagination, exposing pale neck and shoulders and the long curve of her spine between the new... appendages, clinging lovingly down over her lower back and the curves of her rear, and black fishnet stockings encased gorgeous legs that seemed to stretch a mile against the crisp whiteness of the sheets. He might one day ask her why she'd chosen to model her costume after a dominatrix--but from the effect she was having on _him_ , distraction value surely ranked high on the list!

He then realized what he was doing and chided himself acidically about allowing himself to be distracted by her body when she needed his help and support. He moved the machine to her quietly, then carefully eased a leaded sheet under her wings and up over her lower body. She moved in her sleep, half-waking, and he spoke to her gently, easing her back into sleep. He took the necessary images of her wings and spine, photographic plates slipped below the gurney, removed the leaded sheet carefully, pulled the privacy screen shut silently, and went to set them to developing. If these failed to provide acceptable images, there were instruments of better quality elsewhere.

A soft chime caught his attention--Robin was inbound. He walked well away from her and activated his comm. "Robin. Come in quiet, and stay in persona. We have a guest resting."

"Sure, boss... what's up?"

"JLA business."

"Aww, man..." his young partner griped. "Alright. Anything else?"

"No."

"Robin out, then." The frequency went dead and he went to place a second call through the Manor's system. He'd informed Alfred on the drive to remain above, and could now explain things more fully. "Alfred."

"Yes, sir?"

"Meet me on the stairs, above the turn."

"Of course."

He walked up the stairs, stopping above the bend that would hide them from sight in the Cave proper, and waited the few moments for Alfred to cross the house and come below. "Yes, Master Bruce?" came the soft voice of his oldest friend.

"Black Canary was attacked by a spell-caster and now possesses wings roughly the size of Hawkgirl's. She's frightened and in pain--though she's currently sleeping. Until Blood can return, she will most likely be remaining here, given the strength of her desire to remain unseen until this can be rectified. I have no intention of revealing my identity to her--"

"And she is _quite_ bright enough to make the connection between myself and Bruce Wayne instantly. Of course, sir. I shall either communicate via the dumbwaiter or disguise myself should my presence be required." He paused a moment. "The Cave is not truly equipped to house a valued guest for any length of time, sir."

That was as close as Alfred would come to chiding him. "I know, Alfred, but we can surely make a place for her, though."

The thought apparently amused Alfred, and he nodded. "I'll think on it. There is space enough." He paused again, considering something. "The Cave is too cold for her preferred attire. I shall see what can be altered for her, if you will provide her sizes and a sketch of her wings."

He had hardly thought of that, but Alfred was entirely right. "I will. Thank you, Alfred. Robin will probably wake her, and she should be hungry."

"And the young Master is perpetually so, and with a guest, will not wish to leave the Cave. If there is nothing else, I'll see about preparing a supper for three."

"Thank you, Alfred," he nodded, and turned back to go check on the developing exposures. As he reached the lowest step the black and red of Robin's bike came into view, the teen walking beside it. He'd taken the 'quiet' command to heart, apparently. Tim swept the Cave with his eyes, nodding to him when he located him, then spent long moments studying the closed screens in the infirmary before walking the bike to its usual parking spot. He walked back towards the infirmary and Tim trotted across the Cave to join him, barrage of questions obvious in the set of his jaw, the tilt of his head and every step he took.

"So, who's here? Who'd you _bring_ here?" he was, thankfully, keeping his voice low.

"Black Canary." He watched the smirk start to spread across the teenager's lips and nearly sighed. //This comment should be interesting...//

"The babe in the fishnets?" he whistled, soft and low, "Da--ang, boss. She's hot, sure, but... how come you brought her here?"

"She's... injured, and needs somewhere safe, and help."

"...Alright. That makes sense," he nodded, "for _her_. Not for you. You don't let anybody but us down here..." Leading tone there that he had no intention of indulging.

"I have been known to make exceptions," he replied.

Tim gave him a very frustrated look at the lack of an answer, but before he could say anything more, the screen started to part, pushed back by one manicured hand, and her blond head peered out of the small gap. "Batman?" her voice was soft, curious, and still tinged with sleep.

"Right here, Dinah. I assume Robin woke you." He ignored Tim's wide-eyed double-take calmly and walked over to her as she pushed the screen slightly further open, allowing her body to be seen without revealing the wings.

"It must have been... I can't see you whistling," she said with a small smile up at him, then looked past his shoulder. "Hi, Robin..."

Batman turned just enough to watch both of them. "Hey," Tim shrugged a shoulder in greeting. "I don't normally get to meet the League-types, so... Is it Dinah or Canary? And wow, you're even prettier in person," he added with a flirtatious smile that reminded Batman uncomfortably of Bruce Wayne's. "I mean, not that the stills aren't gorgeous, but..."

"It's Dinah, and thanks... You're _taller_ in person," she replied, amusement dancing in her blue eyes, and he had to struggle not to smile at the flustered, unhappy look on Tim's face.

"Growth spurt, actually," Tim finally replied, managing to keep his voice under control, and Dinah smiled a little wider at him. "Oh," and nodded, still standing in the opened screens. "That explains it too."

She looked back up at him, focusing blue eyes on the lenses of his mask, "Weren't you going to do something about taking some X-rays?"

"I did, you slept through it, and they're developing." He kept his face calm at the way her expression changed to wide-eyed confusion at the response. She banished it from her face quickly, but it lurked in her eyes.

"I… can't believe I didn't wake up, but... okay. How much longer?"

"I was about to check on them," he replied and walked over to slip into the walled area and study the exposures. They were ready to start drying, almost over-exposed, but still clear. He hung them, and slipped back out, catching the end of a comment from Tim. The intonation said he was flirting again, possibly trying to coax Dinah out from behind the curtains. If so, he was having no success. "Robin, stop bothering Dinah and go see if supper is finished."

"Can't you just--aw. _Fine_. I'll go." The teenager flashed another grin at Dinah and started across the Cave at a lope, taking the stairs up two at a time.

"Does that kid ever shut it _off_?" Dinah asked, turning her head towards him.

"Not often," he replied honestly. Tim was a born flirt, despite his best efforts to convince him a more professional demeanor would be useful. The answer must have amused her, as she started to laugh--he heard a faint note of hysteria in it, however.

"I... cannot _believe_ I'm hiding from a _teenager_ behind a curtain because of these stupid things!" she glared backwards over a shoulder. "Feels like I'm back in high school," she muttered very softly, obviously not intending for him to hear it, so he made no reply.

"Would you prefer to eat within, then, or come out and join us?" He watched conflicting desires war in her eyes and waited for her to decide. Either would be understandable.

She was still thinking when Robin came bounding back down the stairs and trotted over to the small dumbwaiter carefully hidden in the rock to lift out the domed tray resting there. It was apparently quite well-laden, given the line of his shoulders as he carried it towards the table nearest them and set it down. "Dunno who all he thinks he's feeding," the teen said, "but there's plenty here," as he pulled the cover off and set it aside with a noisy clank, smile widening at the meal. "Hungry, Canary? There's a plate here for you, too..."

She looked up at him, a flicker of nerves in her eyes and a question written plainly in the tilt of her head. He could almost hear it. //Is he going to laugh at me?//

//Not if I can help it,// he answered her with a trace of a smile and an encouraging turn of his hand towards the waiting food, and he watched her expression harden into stubbornness. "If you laugh at me, Boy Wonder, I will never forgive you, and I have a perfectly good left hook."

"Why would I--" Tim's voice cut off as she pushed the screening curtains further open, revealing the red-tinged black of her wings. They were drawn up around her slightly (tension, he realized), and he made a note to offer her more painkillers after she ate. He looked back towards Tim and let his expression harden, warning the boy to _behave_ without saying a word. Robin swallowed, and just stared wide-eyed behind the mask for a moment. Thankfully, Dinah would not be able to read that so plainly. "Ah... I'm not gonna laugh. I do kinda wanna know what happened, though... I mean, last I knew you just had the Cry..."

"I made a mage mad, apparently," she answered him, and the droop in her wings as she relaxed was obvious. "So he did this."

Robin whistled, "Man, some magic! I... that has to _suck_. Do they--never mind." He shook his head, apparently having learned a little tact somewhere, and filled a plate for her as she walked across the Cave carefully, her usual confident grace fettered by the literal weights on her shoulders. More properly 'on her spine', but that did not fit the saying as well.

"Thank you," she told him as she took the plate, and he could hear the winsome smile on her lips, and see it in the way Robin started to flush. "No problem," he answered her. "Boss would make me work out 'til I dropped if I was rude enough not to feed you first."

True. He moved to join them, taking the last plate and a substantial helping of the meal before Tim could devour everything in sight. He was at one of those stages again. He cast his eyes between one of the backless stools in the lab area and Robin, and Tim ran down to fetch one quickly, bringing it back up to set it near the table they were using as an impromptu buffet with a small flourish. "Not much of a chair, but better than nothing, right?"

"Much, thank you," Dinah agreed, and settled onto it, careful of her balance as she ate. The hunger was obvious, but her manners were perfect as she ate, in stark contrast to Tim who leaned hipshot against the table to wolf down his meal as swiftly as possible. He finished his own meal swiftly, intent on returning to the X-ray prints. Leaving Dinah and Tim still eating, he walked into the developing area and retrieved the prints, carrying them out by the edges, moving towards the light-board he used for drafting, laying one out. He'd been studying it for only a moment when the first sound caught his attention and he turned swiftly, feeling his eyes widen behind the lenses.

//Don't fall!// was his first, fleeting thought as he watched her body curl forward and the dark wings flare open and beat as she leapt free of the toppling stool, her entire body broadcasting her fury. From what he could see, she'd intended to join him and pushed away from the table, failing to compensate correctly for the addition of the wings when she leaned back, which had led to the near fall. He controlled his relieved reaction when she regained her feet safely and turned back before she could notice that he had seen--and the savagely metallic clatter of the stool along the Cave floor spoke eloquently of her anger and embarrassment. She'd obviously planted quite the kick in it.

"Are you okay, Canary? I can't believe you stayed on your _feet_ , that was am--a great recovery!" His young partner didn't always know when to keep quiet.

"I'm _fine_ , thank you, Robin." There was an acid edge in her voice as he heard her steps (sharp, staccato hits of her heels) on the solid rock, coming to his side to look at the film. "Oh... my god... those are extra..." The hard swallow cut off the end of the nauseated sentence, but he knew what she was going to say.

"Bones, yes." They were interesting, academically, curling up over her ribs, a hollow making a ball joint for the wings to flex and roll within. He had never had reason to examine Hawkgirl's bone structure, he was now curious if the structures were the same.

"I... knew, but I didn't want to believe it.... you took more than just this one. Let's see them." Her voice was brisk, harsh as February winds, and brittle underneath, though she was finally beginning to sound like herself again. He nodded, and changed the image for the next, which detailed a portion of the bones of her wings.

"They appear to have the typical avian wing structure," he said softly, shifting just enough to watch her face.

"Problem being that I'm a mammal, not a bird, despite the name... I suppose it's good that they're built normally, though..." the admission sounded hard-won, and he simply nodded, and put up the third film, another detail of a wing.

"I... think I've seen enough, for right now... I'm... going to go lie back down, if you don't mind..."

"First," and with Robin still below, he pulled a sheet of paper and a pen over. "If you'll list your sizes, I can see about having clothing altered for you. I assume you'll want more than your costume, especially given the temperature here."

"It is a little cold," she agreed softly, nodding, and picked up the pen, hand moving quickly across the page.

"If there's anything else you need, just add it to the list," he thought to say after a moment.

She chuckled, "Unless you've got a complete line of women's products down here, Batman, there's quite a bit I'm going to need before long..." She sounded almost like she expected him to recant on the offer.

"That's fine, Dinah," he said instead, and watched the list grow. She dropped the pen after a few moments, and looked at him. From the carefully opaque look, she was considering something. "What is it?"

"That," tilting her head angrily in the direction of the table and the fallen stool, "made these hurt again. I think I tried to use them, when I started to fall..." It was a flat statement on the surface, but a careful ear could hear the request under it.

"Ah. I'll get you something, then you can rest." He rose from the workstation and walked towards the infirmary, making certain to keep his steps to a pace she could easily manage. He had no desire to ignite her temper, or push her towards releasing her Cry within his orderly cave out of anger or frustrated shame. He selected a moderately powerful NSAID-based painkiller, and handed the bottle to her to let her look it over. After a few moments she nodded and opened it to swallow two. "I keep this one at home, thank you..."

He shrugged one shoulder slightly. It was nothing. She sighed at him, and carefully went about laying back down, first pushing off her boots and letting them drop to the floor. Some of the positions required for a winged woman to go from sitting on a bed to laying on it (especially a woman clad as she was) were... provocative, to put it mildly, though he did his best to ignore those reactions. It would do no one any good for him to be distracted. He watched her lie down, folding her wings in close along her spine, and wondered if she felt as vulnerable in that position as he had on the occasions he'd been forced by injuries to sleep on his chest. Deliberately, he made small noises as he acquired a blanket from the shelves to lay it over her, letting her know where he was so that she would not be startled. He let it spread out over her, falling high across her shoulders, determined to acquire a second one shortly, and blinked at the soft, startled noise she made. "Oh... thank you...." she almost purred at him, one hand sliding up to pull the blanket a little higher, tucking it under her chin, and his smile at the motion came through in his voice as he answered her. "You said you were cold."

"True..." she agreed, twisting her head to look at him a moment, smiling that lovely smile, then she resettled, blonde hair the only thing visible once again.

"Sleep well, Dinah," he told her and left, pulling the screen shut again. There were many things to arrange before she woke again.


End file.
